Brian

Then maybe at the closing of your day

you may sit and watch the moonrise over Claddagh

and watch the sun go down on Galway Bay

Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream

the women in the meadows making hay

and to sit beside a turf fire in a cabin

and watch the barefoot gosoons at their play

oh the wind that blow across the sea from Ireland

and perfumed by the heather as it blows

and the women in the upland digging praties

speak a language that the strangers do not know

for the stranger came and tried to teach us their way

they mocked us just for being what we are

but they might as well just try to chase a moonbeam

or light a penny candle from a star

and if there’s going to be a life hereafter

and somehow I feel sure there’s going to be

I will ask my God to let me make my Heaven

in that fair land across the Irish sea

“Michael they have taken you away

for you stole Trevellian’s corn, so that our young might see the morn

now the prison ship lies waiting in the bay.”

CHORUS:  low lies the fields of Athenry

               where once we watched the small freebird sing

               our love was on the wing, we had dreams and songs to sing

               it’s so lonely ’round the fields of Athenry

By a lonely harbour wall I heard a young man calling

“Nothing matters Mary when you’re free

against the famine and the crown

I rose up, they cut me down

now you must raise our child with dignity.”

CHORUS

By a lonely harbour wall she’ll watch the last star falling

as the prison ship sails out against the sky

and all alone she’ll hope and pray, for her love in Botany Bay

it’s so lonely ’round the fields of Athenry

CHORUS (TWICE)

In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty

I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone

as she wheeled a wheelbarrow, through streets broad and narrow

crying cockles and mussels, alive alive O

CHORUS:  Alive alive O, alive alive O

               Crying cockles and mussels

               Alive alive O

She was a fishmonger, and sure ’twas no wonder

for so was her father and mother before

they both wheeled their barrow through streets broad and narrow

crying cockles and mussels alive alive O

(CHOURUS)

She died of a fever, and no one could save her

and that was the end of sweet Molly Malone

now her ghost wheels a barrow, through streets broad and narrow

crying cockles and mussels, alive alive O

(CHOURS TWICE TO END)

                        “Flash ! flash ! bang ! bang ! and we blazed away

                        And the grey roof reddened and rang

                        Flash ! flash ! and I felt his bullet flay

                        The tip of my ear, flash ! bang !”

These lines, and several other treasures are to be found in Stephen Piles wonderful work, THE BOOK OF HEROIC FAILURES which is warmly recommended. It is published by Futura books.

This came to light when one of them, a Mr.Bill Hancock, complained that buses on the outward journey regularly sailed past queues of up to 30 people !

When questioned on the matter Councillor Arthur Cholerton said that if these buses stopped to pick up passangers they would disrupt the timetable.

                              She would me ‘Honey’ call

                              She’d – O she’d kiss me too

                              But now alas ! she’s left me

                              Falero, lero, loo

 Hope it gives you as much enjoyment as it has given me. If only I could find a book of the man’s work…but so far only this gem !